The Adventures of Gerard Way Vs. Soulja Boy

Gerard drove slowly down the highway, looking around for a road sign that would point the way to Soulja Hill. He had no idea what side of the road it was on or if he was even going in the right direction but that was his own fault for not beating more out of Frank.

After driving for another ten minutes, Gerard finally pulled into a small service station, hoping someone would be able to give him better, reliable directions. He climbed out of the massive bus and headed inside to the small convenience store area. The clerk on duty was an older man, with orange hair and a beard that was so long, it disappeared into his shirt. He was also wearing sunglasses that hid his entire upper face from view.

"You need some help son?" he asked, mouth moving even after he was done talking. A large wad of gum visibly bounced around his mouth.

"Erm, yeah actually," Gerard said, stepping up to the counter and scratching his head. "I was wondering if you happened to know where Soulja Hill was."

"Soulja Hill..." The man stroked his beard thoughtfully, ignoring when his piece of gum dropped into it, disappearing from sight. "Soulja Hill... oh hell, I know where that is! You just keep going down this here road for another few minutes and then turn onto Chadam Avenue, then left onto Edarap Lane and it's down that aways."

"Thanks sir," Gerard said, wondering why he really hadn't of grabbed a map before he'd left. "Greatly appreciated."

"No problem son." When he turned around, Gerard smacked directly into someone, sending their merchandise flying into the air.

"Oh God, I am so sorry!" he apologized, stooping down to pick up the various items.

"It's totally okay, man." At the sound of the man's voice, Gerard froze, fingers holding onto a pack of gum. He raised his head slowly and found himself looking directly into a pair of eyes he'd never wanted to see again.

"Bert?"

"Gerard? What the hell are you doing here?" Gerard stood up and backed away slightly in the direction of the door.

"Could say the same for you." The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The clerk watched their standoff, absently swinging a pocket blade that was seemingly carving lines in the thin air. The hatred in Gerard's eyes was almost as intense as it had been when he'd shot Zacky.

"Pretty low of you to go writing songs about me, don't you think?" Gerard finally said, breaking the silence.

"I wouldn't of had to if you weren't such a prick," Bert smirked, taking a step forward.

"Oh, so this is all about me now, is it?" Gerard backed up until his back collided with something hard. "Well, I have two words for you McCracken: fuck you!" Reaching backwards, Gerard grabbed a pot of fresh made coffee, throwing it at Bert. It hit him directly in the face and shattered into a thousand pieces, sending glass and delicious, still warm coffee everywhere. Bert shrieked and stumbled backwards, clutching at his eyes and face. Gerard stood triumphantly with his hands on his hips before turning around and booking it for the bus, laughing maniacally.

"Write a song about that!" he yelled back, diving into the bus and taking off, still laughing. Eventually, his adrenaline rush ended and he calmed down. The bus was almost eerily quiet. There was no hyper Frank running around, no Bob and Ray playing video games, no Mikey shrieking as he burnt himself yet again on the stove...

Gerard missed his band, but he had an important mission to do. He set his jaw firmly, imagining himself as a modern day Sylvester Stallone, and continued onwards.

However, he couldn't help but wonder a little bit what his band mates were doing...

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As it turned out, Gerard's band mates were completely fine. They were all staying on the Avenged bus, with the exception of Mikey, who was with Taking Back Sunday. On the former bus, there was a wild truth or dare fest going on. Everyone was playing... with the exception of Zacky and Frank.

"Aargh," Frank said, drawing a crude stick figure on the cast Zacky insisted he needed after Gerard shot him. "Why won't you be a pirate with me?"

"Don't wanna," Zacky grumbled. Frank sat up straight and crossed his arms, sighing loudly.

"You are no fun," he pouted, his pirate hat almost falling off of his head. It matched the patch he had over his 'injured' eye.

"Well, you're annoying," Zacky muttered, lying down and scooting as close to the wall as he could. Frank threw his hat across the way into Johnny's bunk and copied Zacky's actions.

"You do realize I know what you told Gerard before you passed out."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zacky stammered, his cheeks turning no less than five shades of pink.

"Yes, you do, and if you don't mind, I'd like to discuss it further." He grinned and quickly slid the curtain of the bunk shut.

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Gerard was getting tired and rather sick of driving. He was driving on Edarap Lane but it had turned out to be a dead end. Groaning, he managed to get the bus turned around and he retraced his steps, going back to where Chadam Avenue met the street.

The street he had just come from was Edarap Lane but the street on the left was also Edarap Lane.

“Oh, right,” he muttered, remembering the man’s directions. The road started out bumpy, yet manageable, but soon it was too narrow and rough to drive down. Gerard was forced to stop. He got out of the bus and glanced around. He was completely surrounded by forest that virtually blocked off the small amount of remaining sunlight. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was nearly eight thirty.

“I should be able to get back by two o’clock,” he said aloud. “Oh, shit, we were moving on tonight! Where the hell are we performing tomorrow?” He thought hard, trying desperately to remember, but gave up, shrugging.

“Whatever,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He began to trudge down the road, hoping to God that some random beast of the night didn’t devour him before he got a chance to deal with Soulja Boy.

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“Oh snap!” Matt Shadows yelled as Bob downed an entire cup of really old lemon juice. He grimaced slightly but showed no signs of getting sick.

“That wasn’t that bad,” he said. “I’ve had worse.”

“Ew,” Johnny said. Bob rolled his eyes and slapped the bassist in the head.

“Hey, where’s Frank?” Ray asked, just noticing the man’s absence for the first time. “He should be out here!”

“Come to think of it, where’s Zacky?” Jimmy added.

“I’ll go see if they’re in the bunks,” Brian volunteered, getting up and heading to the back of the bus.

“You guys in here?” he yelled, pulling back Zacky’s curtain.

It was a bad idea.

“Oh my God!”

“Brian, shut it!”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Zacky and Frank both shouted different answers and Brian swiftly closed the curtain, literally running back up to the front area.

“So, what are they doing?” Matt asked, wincing as Jimmy waxed part of his leg with duct tape.

“Either nothing, or playing doctor.”

“How the hell does that work?” Bob asked.

“Simple. Zacky said they were doing nothing at the same time Frank said that they were playing doctor.”

“Typical Frank answer,” Ray muttered, bursting into laughter as Jimmy yanked off another section of tape.

“Anyways, can we please not mention it again?” Brian asked, shivering slightly. “I think I’ve been scarred for life.”